


Art or Nothing

by chambergambit



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chambergambit/pseuds/chambergambit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Kurt is an art student, Blaine is a figure model. Klaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The new model is handsome, and his poses varied and dynamic. Kurt would love drawing him if not for the fact that he can't be  _still_. He quivers as he tries to hold his pose, his left foot inching further out towards the corner of the platform on which he stands in the middle of the studio. The negative shape Kurt already has drawn out is changing before his eyes, and charcoal is such a bitch to fix. With a sigh, Kurt wipes off his hands on a washcloth and reaches into his bag for a kneaded eraser.

As he adjust the position of the leg in his drawing, his eyes wander upward. Kurt mentally slaps himself and concentrates on the model's knee. He will not look at this guy's penis until he has to draw it. Then he will treat it with the same frankness he treats the rest of the human body. It's just another piece of anatomy, he tells himself. It's not like he hasn't seen them on other models before. Old ones, with liver spots all over their sagging, wrinkled skin. Not young, agile men with big eyes and pouty lips.

Concentrate, Hummel, there are still three hours to go.

"Let's take a break, shall we?" his professor says, clapping her hands. "Fifteen minutes."

Kurt sticks his eraser on the edge of his easel, sits back on his stool, and relaxes. The other students put down their charcoal sticks and conte crayons, and quiet conversation fills the room. He knows that some of them are eager to leave the studio and get some fresh air, but the door does not open until the model puts on his robe.

Blaine throws on a hideous red and blue thing after the professor marks his position on the platform with tape and hops off. Most of the students make their way out, but Kurt sticks around. The benches outside the studio will be cloaked in cigaret smoke, and it's hard enough to breath in a cloud of charcoal dust. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine make his way around the room, checking out the various drawings of himself.

Kurt stiffens as Blaine approaches him. Models like to see all of the drawings, so it's not like Blaine wants to see Kurt's specifically. Taking a deep breath, Kurt tries not to pay attention to the cute, barely clothed young man behind him.

"I kept moving, didn't I?"

Blinking, Kurt turns around to face him. "Excuse me?"

"My leg." Blaine smiles and gestures to the drawing. "It kept sliding back. Did I mess you up?"

"Nothing I can't fix," says Kurt. He stands because the hem of Blaine's robe is far too close to this eye line. It's weird to have a model talk to him. He tries not to think of models as people, just still life set ups that happen to look like people. The more Blaine smiles, however, the more this mentality falls apart.

"Hey, is there like a bulletin board around here?" he asks. He holds up a piece of paper advertising private modeling sessions.

Kurt nods and points to the door. "Yeah, just outside the bathrooms. You do private sessions?"

"I'm trying," says Blaine with a shrug. "I know it's a little risky, but everyone at this school seems really professional, so…"

"The chances of you running into a psycho killer are slim." Kurt says. Blaine laughs, and suddenly a private session is rather appealing. At least he could be able to say something if he starts to move. "So, um, how much do you charge?"

"I figured I could work that out with each artist individually," says Blaine. "Everyone has different budgets."

"So If I said I could give you forty for two hours…" Kurt bounces on the balls of his feet, smiling.

"…I would take it," Blaine says, smiling back. "Do you want my number so we can set something up?"

Kurt nods and pulls his sketchbook out of his bag. It's not like he just wants to see Blaine naked again. Private sessions with a model could give him the push he needs to get ahead of the competition. He jots down Blaine's number as his professor calls the other students back into the studio.

The rest of the class, Blaine makes a noticeable effort to remain still. There continues to be some awkward shifting, but at least the negative shapes remain the same. The professor walks past him and points out a few things that need adjustment, overall the drawing earns her approval.

With thirty minutes left before their time ends, the students are instructed to pin their drawings on the back wall for a quick critique. They pull up their chairs and examine each drawing, each student looking for something to say. There are the easy targets, like the guy who always draws his heads too big, or the girl who crops out hands and feet. Then there are those who capture the human form with such elegance that Kurt wants to chop his own hands off.

Art is subjective, Kurt knows that. Whether you actually managed to accurately draw what's in front of you is not. They aren't here to judge how a drawing made them feel or if it has any particular meaning to it. The only thing they need to know is if works or it doesn't.

Kurt draws limbs too long and thin. His shadows are too dark, his outlines too thick. He knows all of these things and wants to scream every time someone points them out. Instead he nods and tries to take it in stride. It would help if they pointed out issues he isn't already painfully aware of, but instead he's told the same bullshit over and over again.

He really  _is_  working on those issues. It's not his fault that lighting today was a little harsh, and his charcoal too soft and the model kept moving and…

Kurt takes another deep breath and gives his thanks for the critique. He'll work on it.

* * *

Two days later, he calls Blaine to set up a private session. He has a studio reserved for a couple hours, and arranges to meet Blaine there one evening after class. Kurt heads over to the studio early to set up the lights, and to just take a moment to relax, be alone, and comfort his wounded ego.

Art school is harder than he thought it would be. It's one thing to be the only person who can draw in high school. You're talented, special, a god among insects. At art school, pretty much  _everyone_ can draw as that's the whole point, but suddenly you aren't special anymore. No one looks over your shoulder to be amazed at what you're doodling in your sketchbook. If anyone looks at all, it's only so they can tell you what you're doing wrong.

Or that's how it feels most of the time. Other times, it's wonderful to be surrounded by people who know how you think, who see the same things you do, to witness art blossoming at every turn.

All of it at once is rather overwhelming. Kurt sits down on the platform and rubs his eyes. Tonight, he will work on legs and feet. Hands, arms, chests, and faces are things he understands, but the lower half of the body is still out of his grasp. Hopefully this time with Blaine will bring him closer to capturing it.

There's a knock on the door and Blaine pokes his head in. Kurt sits up and smiles, beckoning him to enter.

"Am I late?" Blaine asks, putting his bag down on a stool.

"No, no, not at all." Kurt says. He stands up and gestures towards the back room. "Why don't you change and then we can start on some gestures?"

Blaine nods, throwing his bag over his shoulder and walking past Kurt to undress. Setting up his easel, Kurt tapes a piece of newsprint to his drawing board and picks out what medium to use. His conte crayons seem neglected, and it would be nice to work with rich browns and reds instead of the the usual blacks and grays.

Kurt looks up to see Blaine in his robe laying a blanket down on the platform before him. He has the standard kit every model brings with them; a blanket, a robe, a water bottle, and a small electric fan. Once the fan is plugged in, Blaine climbs up onto the platform and slips the robe off of his shoulders.

As Blaine bends over to fold his robe and place it on the edge of the platform, Kurt wonders if he'll ever have a man undress in front of him for free. It's important to note that the situation is decidedly not sexual. They're in a stuffy studio with hot, bright lights, and their main concerns are money and grades. Kurt takes that mental step backwards and Blaine becomes less of a cute naked boy and more of a thing to draw, like flowers or a bowl of fruit.

"How long do you want the gestures?" Blaine asks as he pulls his arms back in a stretch.

"Um, how about ten one-minute ones?" says Kurt.

Blaine nods. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

His first pose is simple; legs apart, hands behind his back. Kurt sketches it out roughly, trying to capture the internal structure of the form. It looks more like a swooshy stickman than an actual person, but that's kind of the point. Blaine adjusts his position and enters a new pose, Kurt quickly sketches another figure right next to the first.

Kurt likes gesture drawing. It's fast and expressive, all lines and motion. The pressure associated with long poses is lifted, and Kurt can just enjoy drawing for a while. He suspects that Blaine feels the same, because as the minutes go by his poses become more and more energetic. One leg up, as if he's about to leap. Body twisted and coiled and like a snake.

Blaine stops. "That was ten, I think."

Kurt sits back and counts the drawings on his paper. "Yes, it was. Um, how about you get a chair? I'd like you to sit for the long pose, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, ok." Blaine says. He gabs a the nearest stool and hoists it onto the platform. Putting his hand over his mouth for a moment, Blaine looks at the stool with concern. "I… I kinda don't want to sit on it directly."

"Oh, well, uh." Kurt frowns and thinks as he tapes another piece of paper to his board. "Why don't you cover it with your robe?"

"Good idea," says Blaine. He does just that, draping the ugly red and blue thing over the seat, and sitting down. "So what do you want me to do?"

Kurt stands up and scratches the back of his neck. "Um, could you pull one leg up like…"

Blaine lifts his right leg up and rests his heel on the edge of the stool, holding it close to his chest with arm. Hesitantly, Kurt reaches out.

"Is it alright if I, um, adjust you?"

Blinking, Blaine swallows. "Oh, um…"

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, immediately backing off. "I wasn't trying to, like,  _touch_ you, I just…"

"No, I understand." says Blaine. "I think I can, um… yeah, ok. Go ahead."

Biting his lip, Kurt reaches out again, this time gently gripping Blaine's right arm and pushing it down his leg, so that his hand rests just above his foot. He bends down and pulls Blaine's other leg out, and to the side. It's possible that Kurt could just tell him what he wants, but he had this pose in his mind all day, and needs it to be perfect.

"Is this comfortable?" Kurt asks.

Blaine nods. "How long am I holding this for?"

"Um, let's try twenty minutes before taking a break, ok?"

"I can do that," says Blaine. "Just tell me if I'm moving too much."

"You can count on it," says Kurt.

He's really quite lovely, Blaine. His body isn't particularly muscular, but it's lean and taut and full of energy, even when sitting still. Kurt sets a timer on his phone and gets to drawing. Even though he feels there's more pressure when it comes to long poses, there's something engrossing about them. He gets lost in the drawing, the whole world melting away until all that's left are Kurt, Blaine, and the paper.

Blaine's eyes close, and Kurt wonders if he gets lost in something as well. A certain amount of self-acceptance is required to be a figure model. Not like a being a model for the runway or magazines, where your body must conform to a specific standard or else. Anyone of any body type can be a figure model, as long as they're comfortable being nude.

Perhaps that's the appeal. Being completely vulnerable in an environment where no one is allowed to hurt you, where all they can do is appreciate all of you for what you are.

He moves. Kurt sighs and reminds himself that Blaine is still pretty new at this.

"If you could move your left arm back few inches, please, I would greatly appreciate it." Kurt says.

Blaine's arm moves back to its original position. He moves a couple more times over the course of their twenty minutes, but nothing too obstructive. Kurt's drawing slowly starts to come together. It's almost as Kurt is carving it out of the paper, revealing it stroke by stroke.

The alarm goes off, and Blaine relaxes.

"Are you ok?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Blaine says, standing up and pulling on his robe.

Kurt takes this time to sit back and try to look at his drawing objectively. It's impossible to do completely, but he'll have to do his best. The legs are still too long, but shadows at least feel organic. He looks up at the sound of a bottle opening, and watches Blaine take a long drink of water. The light catches the bottle in just the right way, and Kurt wonders if he could photograph it and draw it later. He knows a few professors who love a good drawing of water.

"So, what got you into this?" Kurt asks. "Modeling, I mean."

Blaine shrugs and sits down on the platform. "My friend, Wes, did it and I thought it would be good for a quick buck. Now, I actually really like it. It's harder than I thought it would be, though."

"You didn't think being naked for an audience would be hard?" Kurt says, arching an eyebrow.

"It's not the naked part that's hard," says Blaine, laughing. "It's the sitting still. But, I like it. It's like being the center of attention and being invisible at the same time."

"I've never thought of it like that before." Kurt says.

"What about you?" Blaine asks. "How did you get into drawing?"

"Drawing isn't something you get into," says Kurt. "It's something that gets into you."

Blaine smiles. "All art is like that, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Kurt nods. "You have no choice in the matter at all."

"Sure you do," says Blaine. "There's art, or nothing."

"Sometimes I wish I picked nothing," Kurt admits. "Nothing doesn't come with a mind-boggling tuition."

"Nothing also doesn't come with fulfillment," says Blaine.

Kurt eyes him again and looks back at his drawing. Issues are becoming clearer now. The neck is too thin, the head just a little too big, his left leg isn't at the right angle. It almost seems like he'll have to start over, but he reminds himself that all drawings are a process like this. Just keep fixing it until there's nothing left to fix.

"Are you ready to go again?" Kurt asks.

Nodding, Blaine puts down his water bottle and climbs back onto the platform, where he slips off his robe and drapes it over the stool like a tablecloth. They work out his pose again, Kurt gently and politely adjusting his limbs. His sits back and sets the timer before picking up his conte crayon.

It's a little hard to get back into the flow of things after a break, but Kurt pushes through it. That's the main issue to everything in his life, really. Just… push though it. Push through the broken ego, the bad drawing habits, the critiques. Get back into the water, the flow of creating art.

He catches Blaine smiling at him. Kurt adds it to the finishing touches to the now appropriately proportioned head on his paper.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you." Kurt says. "For a second there I thought you said you  _liked_  Papyrus."

"Yeah," Blaine says, nodding. "That's a font, right?"

"Not in civilized society." says Kurt.

It's their third private session. Kurt is living off of ramen and graham crackers to afford these alone times with Blaine, but it's worth it. The extra hours are really pushing his drawing skills forward, and his professors are impressed by his improvement. Everything would be perfect if not for the fact that Blaine does't understand that not all fonts are created equal.

Blaine takes another sip from his water bottle and adjusts his robe. During breaks they like to talk, and todays topic is the various aspects of Kurt's major.

"What's a civilized font, then?" Blaine asks, drumming his fingers against the platform on which he sits.

"Helvetica, of course." Kurt says. He eyes his drawing critically, ignoring the look of amusement on Blaine's face. "As well as Bodoni and Futura."

"I think I  _might_ have heard of the first one," says Blaine, laughing.

Kurt picks up a broken piece of charcoal and adds a touch of shadow to the paper. "I'm also fond of the uppercase Q in Avant Garde."

"What about Times New Roman?" Blaine asks.

"Boring. Overused." Kurt says. "I appreciate simplicity, but it's the  _default_ , you know?"

Blaine smiles. "You are certainly not the default."

Kurt glances at him and discreetly licks his lips. "I think we're ready for another pose, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, totally. We got another hour, right?" Blaine says as he hops onto his feet and slips the robe off of his shoulders.

Nodding, Kurt rummages through his bag and pulls out a pillow and long piece of red cloth. "I'd like you to lie down, if that's ok."

He stands and walks up to the platform as Blaine gets down on his knees. Blaine lies down and Kurt tucks the pillow under his head before draping the cloth across his midsection and between his legs.

"This feels a little Titanic," says Blaine, lifting his arms up to frame his face.

Kurt huffs and goes back to his easel. "If you ask me to draw you like a French girl, you're fired."

"Understood." Blaine says. "So, what's with the cloth?"

Taping a new paper onto his board, Kurt shrugs. "I'd like to be able to show my father a drawing that doesn't have a penis in it."

"Does your father have a problem with you drawing penises?"

"Actually, my father is very understanding when it comes to my relationship with penises." Kurt picks up a fresh charcoal pencil and starts to sketch out the structural shapes that make up Blaine's body. "I'm just sure that he doesn't want to see them in every piece I bring home."

He pauses, looking up at Blaine's face to discern his reaction. By admitting that he had a relationship with penises at all, Kurt wonders if that means he more or less just came out to Blaine. Kurt's perfectly aware of his lack of passing privileges, but it still isn't something they've ever talked about in their short time together.

Blaine just smiles and closes his eyes, going off to where ever he needs to be while in a pose. Relaxing, Kurt goes back to drawing. He's more familiar with Blaine's contours now; the convex and concave of his waist and hips, the muscles in his legs and arms. While every inch of him is beautiful and fascinating, Kurt can't help but feel that he spends too much time drawing his face.

Faces are his favorite thing to draw. A person's entire life is written in their face, and Kurt loves to be able to capture it with a pencil or pen. While he doesn't know the actual details of Blaine's backstory, there are things Kurt thinks he can read when he draws him. There's the slight furrow of concentration in his brow as he struggle to hold a pose, the soft smile on his lips when he lets go and gets lost in the stillness, and the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, as if he's eager to say something but doesn't know what.

Kurt doesn't want to get too fixated on Blaine face. Sure, the rest of his body is lovely, but he tends to mentally regard it as just a bowl of fruit. The face is the person, the attractive, smart, funny, person who is totally naked and just  _lying_ there.

His pencil breaks, and he pulls out a little metal sharpener to fix it. Hummel, you are a bad person and a terrible artist, ogling your model like that. Bowl of fruit, Hummel.  _Bowl of fruit._

When the session ends, Blaine dresses in the back room while Kurt gathers his things together in his portfolio. It's giant, bulky black thing that's held together with tastefully placed duct tape. He stands up and hoists the strap over his shoulder, only to stumble back into his chair. Letting out a groan of pain, Kurt rubs his aching back. Sitting and drawing for hours at a time is murder on his spine, and the extra sessions with Blaine do not help.

"Are you ok?" Blaine asks has he comes back into the studio.

"Oh, I'm fine." Kurt says, standing up and lifting the portfolio again. "It's just that this thing apparently gained fifty pounds in two hours."

Blaine frowns and reaches out for the portfolio. "Do you need help?"

"No, no, I…" He stumbles again and manages to catch him and hold him steady. Blaine's hands on his shoulders feel wide and…  _present_. Kurt stiffens and takes a step back. "Thanks. I'm fine."

"Maybe I could, um, walk you to your dorm?" Blaine says. "I'll carry your portfolio."

"You don't have to do tha—"

"I want to."

Kurt blinks at him for a moment, tension building up in his chest. The usually naked cute boy wants to walk him home and carry his portfolio filled with naked drawings and maybe he'll see his room and get naked in there and Kurt can make more close-up, detail drawings of said nakedness and…

"Ok." Kurt says.

They exit the studio and step into the crisp night air. As they head across the parking lot to the sidewalk leading to his dorm, their shoulders bump together, sending shivers up Kurt's spine. He's not sure if this means Blaine is special or if it's just been way too long since he's been able to casually brush up against a guy at all. Boys in high school avoided touching him like he was diseased, and boys in college…

Well, he's still figuring out boys in college.

When they reach his building, Kurt clears his throat. "Hey, um, I have another assignment to draw some portraits and I was wondering if you could sit for that."

"Yeah," says Blaine. "That sounds cool."

While Kurt is grateful that he lives on the ground floor so they don't have to haul his portfolio up the stairs, he's disappointed that their time together is ending so soon. It would be so easy to ask if he wants to get coffee or something, but Kurt isn't sure if he could take the rejection and still be able to see him professionally. They arrive at the door to Kurt's room, and he swallows, hoping that another private session won't completely shatter his metaphorical piggy bank for the rest of the month.

"It would only take about an hour," says Kurt, fishing through his bag for his keys. "And you wouldn't be nude, of course. I'm only drawing your face. So, how much—"

"Oh, no, you don't have to pay me." Blaine says. He sets the portfolio down and rests it against the wall next to the door.

Kurt blinks. "But…"

"It's just a portrait. I'll do it as a friend." Blaine smiles and lightly touches Kurt's arm. "Besides, I like hanging out with you."

Finally pulling out his keys, Kurt unlocks his door. "In that case, I'll, um, call you to see when we can do this."

He looks up to see Blaine leaning against the wall and beaming at him. Kurt smiles back, hoping his face isn't as red as it feels. They say their goodbyes and Kurt pulls the portfolio into his room, letting it slump onto the tile floor. He spends the night doodling in his sketchbook, nerves to jittery to sleep.

* * *

Kurt never thought he would have an issue with naked boys being too naked and comfortable and casual and  _naked_ around him. While it's really only the one boy, the other students in his life drawing class are starting to pick up on it. There are raised eyebrows during critique at all of the drawings of Blaine that Kurt presents, inquires as to how they can get private sessions as well,  _and does he give you a discount because you're friends?_

"No, of course not." Kurt says, leaving out the fact that he recently agreed to be drawn for free. "We worked out a price beforehand. He has flyer up outside, you can just call him."

The other student setting up his easel looks up. "Oh hey, he's here."

Sure enough, Blaine steps onto the platform, laying his blanket down and slipping off his robe. Kurt immediately turns away to focus on what charcoal stick to use when Blaine bends over to place his folded robe in the corner. It's becoming harder and harder to think of his body as nothing but fruit, especially has he swings his perfect ass in front of Kurt's face.

Blaine turns around and catches Kurt's eye, giving him a little wave and smile. His heart leaping up into his throat, Kurt waves back. The professor claps her hands, and Blaine begins his first pose for the gestures. Normally, now would be the time Kurt takes himself out of the awkwardness of the situation and just draw, but his mind is still stuck on how lovely Blaine's legs are.

A minute goes by and the pose changes. Kurt jumps in his seat and starts sketching, chastising himself for missing the first gesture. This can't continue. He either has to get close enough to Blaine that he doesn't care about his state of dress, or stop talking to him altogether so that he can distance himself again. As Blaine twists his body for another pose, Kurt realizes that probably will never achieve the latter.

* * *

"You'd think you wouldn't have to draw so much for graphic design." Blaine says as his climbs onto Kurt's tiny dorm room bed. "Isn't that all done with computers and stuff?"

Kurt situates himself at the opposite end of the bed, crossing his legs and turning his sketchbook to a fresh page. "A basic knowledge of drawing is useful to all of the majors. Besides, it's fun."

Blaine blinks and tilts his head. He glances around the dorm; Kurt's side beautifully decorated, his roommate's side looking like no one even lives there. Kurt has seen him maybe twice since they moved in, and he's pretty sure this is the greatest roommate relationship of all time. Leaning back against the wall, Kurt brings his knees up to his chest and rests his sketchbook on top of them like a table.

"Thank you for doing this for me." Kurt says. "It really helps."

"It's no problem," says Blaine. He smiles again. "Like I said, I like hanging out with you."

Kurt bites his lip and starts to map out the guidelines of his face. Eyes in the middle. nose halfway between the eyes and the chin, and so on. Blaine relaxes against the opposite wall, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide and attentive. Despite the amount of time he spends on it in class and during their private sessions, Kurt has never drawn Blaine's face so close up before. He really studies it now, the curve of his cheekbones, the angle of his jaw.

He's beautiful, and Kurt can't believe he actually gets to draw him on a regular basis. It makes him want to get better. Of course, he  _always_  wants to get better, but this is different. Kurt wants to capture that face completely, hold it in his hands, his pencil, his paper. Photographs might be able to preserve a single moment in time, but to Kurt, a drawing takes in a person's entire essence.

Blaine's face is so open and illuminated, but the light of it brightens and dims depending on the situation. Right now, it's a soft, flickering glow, like a candle. It's mesmerizing, just like the rest of his body, but in its own particular way. Blaine closes his eyes for a moment, his eyelashes casting the faintest of shadows on his cheeks.

"Could you, um, keep your eyes open, please?" Kurt asks.

Blaine looks back up at him and nods. "Sorry, I feel like I'm staring at you."

"That's ok," says Kurt. "I don't mind."

He wants Blaine to look at him, he realizes. He wants Blaine to look at him with the same awe and wonder that Kurt looks at Blaine. Taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, Kurt goes back to drawing.

"This is different," Blaine says softly, as if not to disturb the rest his expression.

Kurt glances up at him from his paper. "How so?"

"I don't feel invisible."

Frowning, Kurt stops drawing for a moment. "I'm sorry?"

Blaine shrugs. "It's like, when I'm in a class or something, I'm invisible. Yeah, I'm naked and everyone's looking at me, but I'm not there."

"And now?" Kurt asks.

"Now it's…" Blaine licks his lips. "It's as if everything is just, just right here."

He stares at him for a moment before putting his sketchbook down on the desk next to him. Resting his hands in his lap, he leans forward ever so slightly.

"Is that ok?" he asks.

Shifting in his seat, Blaine inches forward as well. "It, it's more than ok. It's great."

"I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable," says Kurt. His hands are shaking, but he grips the sheets to steady them.

"I don't think you will," Blaine says. "But I'll let you know if that changes."

"Good," says Kurt, smiling. "Because you're really great to draw."

"I am?"

Kurt nods. "You have a very… honest face."

Looking down, Blaine plays with the hem of his shirt. "Are you saying that you can tell what I'm thinking just by looking at me?"

"No," Kurt shakes his head. "It's more as if you never look like you're hiding something, or trying to be something you're not."

Blaine looks up at him again and bites his lip. "I guess can't hide anything, can I?"

"Well, I can't read your mind," says Kurt. "If you want people to know what you're thinking, you have to tell them."

"Can I  _show_  them instead?" Blaine asks. "Actions speak louder than words."

"That's always an option." Kurt says.

Smiling, Blaine leans forward even further, climbing across the bed and reaching out to cup Kurt's jaw. He softly presses their mouths together, and Kurt's eyes flutter closed. Kurt clutches at Blaine's shirt and kisses him back, firm and solid. His mouth falling open, Blaine slides their tongues together and runs his fingers through Kurt's hair. The kiss breaks, and Kurt rests his forehead on Blaine's shoulder.

"Do you want to go back to drawing?" Blaine whispers.

Kurt shakes his head. "No, it's ok. I practically have you memorized."

He kisses Blaine again, this time wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. Blaine laughs into the kiss, sinking into Kurt like he belongs there. The sketchbook remains on the desk, the partially finished drawing ready to be completed at another time.

THE END.


End file.
